


Partition

by cakeby_thepound



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-13 23:53:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4542321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeby_thepound/pseuds/cakeby_thepound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick and Michonne go out for a night on the town. </p><p>(AU Richonne one-shot.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Partition

**Partition**

Rick had been pacing his living room for what felt like ages now, his expensive shoes pounding his expensive floors as he glanced at his watch every thirty seconds or so. As if time would magically stand still the more he looked at it. As if he weren't driving himself a little more crazy each time another minute passed. She always did this, and the wait was always worth it, so he wasn't sure why he always made such a big deal of it.

"Dad!"

He stopped his pacing long enough to answer his son, following the sound of his voice to find him standing in the foyer, gazing at him expectantly. "You need somethin'?"

"You still didn't give me money for the pizza," Carl reminded him for the third time, holding out his hand. "Also, the doorman said your car is here."

"Of course it is," he chuckled, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. He pulled a couple of twenties from the billfold as he walked to the foot of the staircase. "Babe, the car is here!" he called up to his wife.

"Are you lying?" she yelled back down.

"No!"

"It feels like you're lying…"

Carl snatched the pizza money from his dad's clutches as he joined him at the steps. "It really is here this time, Michonne."

"Shit. Okay."

They could hear her scurrying across the floor in her heels and only looked at one another knowingly, Rick shaking his head. "Next time we go out, remind me to change the time on her phone."

"You're always in such a rush," Carl shook his head. "It's a birthday party, not the President's inauguration."

"Well, if you'll recall… we were late for that, too."

"That's true," he had to admit. "Michonne, you should hurry before dad has a coronary!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she shot back just before appearing at the top of the steps. She was dressed to impress, as always, in a form-fitting white dress that covered her arms, but showed off her magnificent legs. She wore magenta heels, and silver earrings with a hint of the same color. Her long dreadlocks were pulled into a sleek ponytail, allowing for her gorgeous face to be the main display. "Worth the wait, or nah?" she grinned down at them.

"Always," Rick smiled up at her, mesmerized by her, as usual. "You're stunning."

"You're not so bad yourself," she smirked, staring down at her man. He was always sexy to her – those bowlegs and that southern twang did her in nearly every night – but something about him in a suit and tie just set her off. He looked so dapper, standing there in black and white, his wavy hair falling perfectly into place. "Did you get a haircut?" she wondered, making her way down the steps to get a closer look at him.

"I brushed it." He offered his hand to help her down the last few steps and onto the hardwood floor. "Pretty much the same thing."

"Pretty much," she chuckled, glancing over to her stepson. "You gonna be all right?"

"Will I be all right not having to put up with you two for a few hours? I think I'll live."

"That's very funny," she quipped. She playfully held his face and gave him a kiss on the cheek, leaving a big lipstick mark the same shade as her shoes. "Have a good night."

"Are you kidding me?" he laughed, wiping at his cheek. "I'm pretty sure that's child abuse."

Rick ignored his claims and planted a kiss to the top of his teenager's head as well, before ruffling his hair. "Be safe, Carl."

"Set the alarm and keep my phone on," he nodded, rolling his eyes at their usual spiel. "I know, I know."

"No girls," Michonne reminded him as Rick opened the door for the two of them. "Not even Enid."

"I  _know_."

"You have money for your food?" she asked.

"Yes."

"You meet the delivery person downstairs," Rick reminded him. "Not here, not at the elevator."

"I  _know_ ," he repeated, annoyed, pushing them both out of the door. "Tell Tyreese I said, 'Happy birthday.'"

"We w-"

He successfully closed the door on them before either of them could say anything else. And with a sigh of relief, he headed back into the den to enjoy his freedom for the night.

On the other side of the door, Rick and Michonne happily headed towards the lobby of their luxurious building, hand in hand. They were late, but even Rick didn't care at that point. As good as Michonne looked, she deserved to make an entrance, he figured.

As their elevator reached the bottom floor, he moved in close to whisper to her, "I can't wait to take that dress off of you tonight."

Her smile widened to what had to be several thousand watts as they stepped off of the elevator together, greeted by their doorman, Carter. "Well don't you two look like you stepped off the top of a wedding cake?" he grinned warmly at them.

"Hey, Carter," Rick chuckled back.

"I never know how to address you two when you're together," he noted as he opened the front door for them. "Do I call you both Dr. Grimes?"

"'Rick and Michonne' is just fine," Michonne assured him.

"You're too kind," he nodded at them both. "You have a good evening."

"You, too," Rick finished with a polite grin.

He held his hand at the small of Michonne's back as they walked toward their awaiting town car, but his eyes couldn't help but drift to the intricate back of his wife's dress. Lots of straps, leaving most of her skin exposed; it was just begging to be unzipped. He hadn't even gotten to the party yet, and he was already ready to leave. Still, they continued on their journey, their driver graciously helping them into their vehicle, where they were met with glasses of champagne and Beyonce's album playing in the background.

"So can we agree that this was a better idea than Uber?" Michonne smiled, crossing her legs as she picked up a glass of bubbly.

"When you're right, you're right," Rick admitted, resting his hand on her thigh. "But when are you not?"

"It's so nice to hear you say that." Her eyes drifted out of their tinted windows to the streets of Atlanta. The moon was full, and so was the city on the beautiful June evening. She took a long sip from her glass and then handed it to Rick so that he could get in on the action. "I love this song," she commented with a blissful sigh. She let her eyes fall closed and rested against him.

_Driver, roll up the partition please_

Rick was so wrapped up in Michonne, he couldn't really concentrate on anything else happening in the car. But he held tightly to their glass of champagne with one hand while his other hand, his right one, slowly crept up Michonne's left thigh, his thumb circling her soft, warm skin as it moved. And as he reached her dress, he discretely moved his long fingers between her thighs until he felt the fabric of her panties.

Michonne glanced at him briefly, surprised by his boldness when they were just a few feet away from a complete stranger. If the chauffeur looked back there long enough, he'd probably be able to see exactly what they were doing. Still, she shifted in her seat to uncross her legs, allowing her husband easy access. She knew those fingers well, and just what they were capable of, given just a few minutes.

Indeed, Rick slipped his hand beneath her lacy panties, rubbing his fingers along her smooth slit as he bit at his bottom lip. He then used his index to lightly massage her clit, causing her to let out a light moan that she couldn't hold in. She grabbed the glass from him and took another drink to keep herself from getting any louder.

"Open wider," he whispered against the side of her face.

She kept her champagne glass over her lips to hide her smirk as she parted her legs just a little bit more. He roamed her pussy for minutes on end, making her wet, making her squirm, making her roll her hips against his hand. His index and middle fingers pushed into her center, and he slowly thrust them deeper then pulled back, deep, then pulled out.

"Let's just fuck right now," she whimpered softly, closing her legs on his hand.

He couldn't help but chuckle at the look on her face. "You serious?"

She nodded.

"How far is this place?" he wondered, still fingering her moist pussy.

"I don't know," she panted almost silently. "Who cares."

Once again, she was right. He finally pulled out his hand altogether and she took his wet fingers into her mouth, licking her own juices from him. She smiled at the way he stared at her as she did it, as if he were jealous that she was getting a taste of herself.

He used his free hand to press the intercom for the driver, his voice thick with lust as he spoke. "Take as long as you can to get there."

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"Take the longest route you can find."

"And please roll up the partition," Michonne added, trying to contain the giggle on her lips.

"Yes, ma'am."

_Took 45 minutes to get all dressed up  
_ _We ain't even gon' make it to this club_

As the window separating them from the driver went up, they turned up the music and went to town. Michonne immediately pulled her dress around her waist and moved to straddle Rick, the two of them going in for a hungry kiss the second they were face to face. His hands squeezed her ass excitedly and she began to grind against his growing erection as they continued their lip-lock, the windows at the back of the car already fogging from their intensity.

_Now my mascara running, red lipstick smudged  
_ _Oh he so horny, yeah he want to fuck_

She pulled back on his lap, just enough to unzip his pants and pull out his dick, while he pulled at the straps at the back of her dress, desperately wanting to feel more of her skin, wanting to feel her breasts in his hands.

"How do I get you out of this dress," he growled into her neck.

She smiled devilishly as she took his cock into her hands, stroking it gently with both of them. He was already dripping with pleasure, much in the same way she was. "I think you're doing okay," she chuckled.

"You're right," he grunted quietly. Her hands were driving him so crazy, he couldn't even get out complete sentences. "Let's just…"

_He popped all my buttons and he ripped my blouse_  
_He Monica Lewinsky'd all on my gown_  
_Whoa there daddy daddy, didn't bring a towel_  
_Whoa baby baby, we better slow it down_  
_Took 45 minutes to get all dressed up  
_ _And we ain't even gon' make it to this club_

Before he completely blew his top, Michonne moved back into place. Rick held her thong to the side as she slowly settled herself over his already swollen dick, taking in every inch of her man with near perfect ease. They fit one another like a glove, both of them smiling at the feel of the other. She instantly began to rock slow and steady, moaning softly with every motion.

He kept a hand on her delicious ass, squeezing at her cheeks when he got the urge. And then he pulled her in for another kiss, their tongues tangled in breathless chaos as she rode him harder and harder. He ran his thumb over her clit once more, causing her to lose her rhythm for a moment. In return, she slowed to a tantalizing pace, and pulled out of their kiss to watch the torture on his face. She squeezed her walls each time she pushed back down onto him, leaving him utterly speechless. She loved that after eight years, she still had that effect on him.

_Take all of me_  
_I just wanna be the girl you like_  
_The kinda girl you like_  
_Take all of me_  
_I just wanna be the girl you like  
_ _The kinda girl you like is right here with me_

The two of them climaxed nearly simultaneously, as they often did, though Rick typically tried to wait until he knew his wife was good. But that night, Michonne felt that familiar warmth of him coming inside her, then let herself go, allowing the small explosion to take over her body. She moaned Rick's name softly as she fell into him, resting her forehead against his. She kissed his nose once more, then wiped what was left of her lipstick from his face, but she didn't move. Not yet.

"I love you," she whispered against his lips.

"I love you back," he grinned, then kissed her once more. He held her thighs on either side of him, softly running his hands along her hot skin. He could've stayed just like that all night if she wanted to. "Do we really wanna go to this party?" he sighed.

She giggled at the idea of ditching it after everything they'd done to get that far. "You rushed me, for what had to be an hour, and now you don't wanna go?"

"I mean… we can go. But I guarantee you and I will have way more fun, just the two of us."

She couldn't argue with that logic. Their car ride had been proof of it. "When you're right, you're right."

_Took 45 minutes to get all dressed up  
_ _And we ain't even gon' make it to this club_

 

-End-


End file.
